


Practice

by orphan_account



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Dubcon Kissing, Dubious Consent, Earpcest, F/F, Incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 22:30:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15716388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: What starts off as an "innocent" encounter  becomes something a lot more questionable. Wynonna Earp isn't developing feelings for her sister...no, no it's just practice.





	Practice

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, this tag needs more fics. So I wrote this. Okay, precede.

“Wynonna! Wynonna, are you home?!”

Waverly barges into the house, throwing her book sack somewhere beside the front door on her way.

“Shit.” Wynonna sinks down into the couch cushions, hiding. It’s not that she doesn’t want to see her little sister; it’s just that she doesn’t want to see her little sister _right now_.

“Oh, there you are!” Waverly announces, flipping on the living room light. Wynonna curses inwardly, shielding her eyes from the sudden brightness. She’s still recovering from last night’s bender at Shorty’s.

“I need to talk to you about something kinda…private,” her sister starts, coming to stand over her at the arm of the couch.

“It’s about me and Champ a-and before you get all grumpy and tell me to go away,” she intercepts the dismissal before it’s even pitched. “I really need help, and I don’t know who else to go to.”

Wynonna lifts the hand covering her eyes just enough to see her sister. The younger girl is looking at her pleadingly, her hands pulling at the bottom of her crop top. Wynonna bites the inside of her cheek and re-shields her eyes. Why does this girl always wear crop tops? The conversation hasn’t even started yet, and she can already feel a tension headache re-emerging at her temple.

To be fair though, that’s probably partially the fault of last night’s whiskey. Wynonna snorts under her breath.

Yeah, mostly the whiskey.

“Come on, don’t laugh.” Waverly whines, misinterpreting the snort. “This is serious!” She punctuates the exclamation with crossed arms and a weak glare.

Wynonna rolls her eyes. “Babygirl, you and I both know that your high school love affair with Chump Hard-on is pretty low on the Serious scale.”

 “You know that’s not his name!” Waverly turns red. “And it is serious to me.”

 “Oh, well then that changes everythin—”

 “It wouldn’t kill you to skip the trademark snark and give me normal sisterly advice,” Waverly exasperates, interrupting her sister’s teasing.

“Sorry sis, but the snark is like 85% of my charm.”

Waverly kicks the leg of the couch causing Wynona’s head to bounce against the armrest like a basketball. She groans in pain. Her hangover headache is definitely coming back for a sequel.

 “Just be there for me _for once_?” Waverly grumbles like the melodramatic teen she is.

The older woman’s eyes snap open at the insinuation. “Hey, don’t say that like I’m not there for you. I’m there for you.”

“Yeah, except when you, I don’t know, _disappear_ for months,” Waverly quips but it comes off more as an accusation than a joke. There’s a hurt scoff from the couch but no defense otherwise.

“Fine.” Wynonna sits up against the throw pillows with a grunt. Her balance is a bit off. “What kind of normal sisterly advice do you want? Did the little turd flirt with whats-her-face again? Should I go hit him with the truck?”

“No, no nothing like that,” Waverly giggles, a bit nervous to broach the subject now that she actually has her sister’s attention. “I just…we’ve been thinking about…well, Champ says he thinks we’re ready to…you know.”

Wynonna’s eyebrows jump up to her hairline. “Uh Babygirl, you’re sixteen. The only thing he better be ready to do is hold hands and hug.” That’s a little hypocritical on her part, seeing as she lost her virginity at fifteen in the back of some baseball player’s truck. But whatever.

Waverly flushes, biting her lip and looking away. The sudden image of her with that exact expression pressed into Champ Hardy’s bedspread comes to mind. Wynonna shakes her head, feeling extremely uncomfortable.

“I—just clarify for me. Are we talking about sex? Because it sounds like we’re talking about sex, and I don’t think I can handle explaining the birds and the bees to you right now.”

“No, Jesus, Wynonna. I’m talking about kissing.”

Waverly watches her older sister’s shoulders sag with relief. “Oh, thank go—wait, you haven’t kissed the boy, yet?’

“Yeah, we’ve been waiting.”

“Uh okay?” Wynonna sinks back into the couch, cocking her head in surprise. “I knew you were a goodie-two-shoes, but I didn’t think you were a freaking saint.”

“No, it’s not anything like that. It’s just…it wasn’t very good with my last boyfriend, and I was so nervous to try again that I told Champ I wanted to wait,” she starts explaining and Wynonna can sense the ramble coming on. “Which he has been surprisingly accepting of…Okay, well, he’s pushy sometimes, but not nearly as much as you’d think he’d be. And anyways, it’s been two months. I can’t hold it off for much longer...”

Wynonna is suddenly aware of how absent from her sister’s life she’s been. She didn’t even know Waverly had an ex-boyfriend. And on top of that, she’s been dating Champ for two months?! It felt a lot longer to Wynonna.

Her eyes scan up and down her little sister’s body. She’d always seen her as cute…freaking adorable at times, but now, she was becoming something else. Something curvier and tanner and decisively not so innocent. A weird thought crosses Wynonna’s mind.

“Have you practiced?” The questions slips out. “Like with your hand or…arm or something.” Wynonna clarifies awkwardly.

“Um, yeah when I was twelve, maybe,” Waverly laughs, accepting the explanation. “But hands and arms aren’t like lips. They can’t, you know…smooch back.”

“You have friends, don’t you?” Wynonna doesn’t know why she says that, suggests that. Waverly shifts on her feet, blushing again.

“What? No! Well, yes, but I can’t just go in and say ‘hey Melissa, let me plant one on you’.” She mimics the last part in a deep voice, laughing nervously afterwards.

“…Why not?”

“People don’t do that with their friends!” The words come out aghast, stilted, questioning. “Or…Did you do that with your friends?”

Wynonna thinks for a second, and then just says, “…Sometimes.” It’s a blatant lie as far as her teenage years go.

She certainly didn’t kiss any of her friends in high school because one, she didn’t have any friends in high school.

And two, she barely had time to go to school period between the psychiatric hospitals and juvenile detention centers.

Sure, she’d hooked up a lot of times during her escapades around the country, but that doesn’t equate to friendship. Certainly no meaningful ones.

If asked at this moment why she tells Waverly otherwise, Wynonna would draw up a blank. Maybe her automatic response to serious questions is to be a dishonest little shit. Or maybe it’s some morbid curiosity about where this conversation will go. Waverly licks her lips and runs a hand through her hair. Just nervous ticks, but Wynonna watches them like they’re new to her. Like she’s never seen that tongue before or that mouth before or those fingers before. She shifts uncomfortably when she realizes what she’s doing.

“That’s…Isn’t that weird? Doesn’t it feel weird? Most of my friends are girls anyway.”

“I don’t know. I can’t remember if it was weird for me.” Wynonna pulls back, suddenly wanting to drop the topic altogether. “It’ll be fine anyways…with Champ, I mean. That rodeo clown will probably blow a load the moment you lean in.”

Waverly scoffs low in her throat like she finds that hard to believe. “Whatever.” She turns to walk away but Wynonna grabs her wrist, stopping her.

“You know you’re out of his league, right? I’ve seen the boy eat nacho cheese off his bare chest.”

Waverly shrugs. “Small town. Limited dating options. He’s nice to me.”

With a light tug of the wrist, she is brought flopping down onto the couch beside her sister. “You don’t have to kiss him just because he’s nice to you, Waves.”

“I know, Wynonna. But I-I like him. I _want_ to.”

Wynonna flinches. Her bright, beautiful sister has shit taste in men. “Well, okay, if you _really_ want to kiss this guy of all the guys for some reason…I guess, I’ll help.”

Waverly’s face lights up with a mix of excitement and confusion. “Help how?”

“I don’t know. Give you advice. Um, mints are important.”

Waverly laughs, slapping her arm. “Is that it, oh wise one?”

“Oh, and don’t use too much tongue. You just want to French the guy, not drown him.” Waverly laughs again.

“Hm two questions,” she starts. “One, should I be writing this down? And two, have you ever thought of working for WikiHow because I think you have a knack?” It’s a sarcastic response, of course; Wynonna smiles proudly.

“Hey, you asked for advice.”

“Yeah, but I meant helpful advice. Not a Buzzfeed article.”

“Just tell me what you want to know. I can’t read minds.”

Waverly hesitates for a moment, flustered. “Just—okay, what is too much tongue exactly? Who should lean in first? How long should it last before I pull away? Where do I put my hands—”

“Wow, you are _really_ overthinking this,” Wynonna interrupts with a snort. “Just go find someone and practice on them.”

“I told you I don’t have anyone! Plus, isn’t that sort of blatant infidelity?”

“It’s not cheating; it’s training. The barf bucket should be ecstatic you’re putting this much thought into it.” Wynonna rolls her eyes. “Plus, you already killed my dreams of a peaceful hangover nap; you might as well use me for practice.” It is a joke but not a joke.

Waverly leans back, eyebrows dipping at the implication.

“Y-You want me to kiss you?”

The older girl jerks her hand from her sister’s wrist. “Woah, woah, woah, don’t make this weird, Nugget. I’m just —if you wanted advice or…Or to practice and get feedback or…something,” Wynonna teeters off, wondering if the whiskey from last night is still in her system. Maybe that would explain why she’s saying crazy shit.

When she gets the courage to meet Waverly’s eyes again, they aren’t judge-y or disgusted or suspicious. They’re just thoughtful like she genuinely thinks Wynonna is offering innocent help. WHICH she is.

“Well…I guess it couldn’t hurt. I feel more comfortable with you than any of my friends anyway.” The words are sincere and tinged with sadness, and for some reason, they make Wynonna’s mouth dry.

“Do you want to do it right now?” The younger sibling suggests casually, apparently over the initial shock of the proposition.

“Right now?” Wynonna balks.

“Yeah! Why not?” Waverly answers back like it’s the most normal thing in the world. She’s taking all of this really well, probably because it has no hidden meaning for her. It’s sincerely just practice. Wynonna swallows.

“I…okay, I guess,” she wets her lips, scooting closer on the couch. This is fine, she says to herself. This is fine.

“First, you should um put your lips like this,” she instructs, allowing her hand to rise up and cradle the side of Waverly’s neck. Her eyes flit briefly to the front door. It’s not like what they’re about to do is a big deal or anything. But she doesn’t know if she could adequately explain that to anyone who happened upon them.

“Like this?” Waverly interrupts her worries with pursed lips. She looks like a fish; Wynonna smiles.

“Yeah, just like that, Babygirl. Perfect.”

Waverly looks down at her lap for a second and blushes. Wynonna thinks her sister has always reacted to compliments like this, even when she was little.

 “Now, it’s um…it’s better to start off slow. Just ease into it, okay?” Waverly nods, her eyes flicking up to watch Wynonna’s mouth. After a moment, she leans in, and Wynonna meets her.

The first time that their mouths touch is gentle, sweet. Wynonna presses a few barely-there pecks into her lips, letting the last one linger a little longer before decisively backing away. That’s enough she tells herself. That’s safe.

“And then you just keep doing that but more,” She tries to laugh, but it comes out like a grunt. Waverly tilts her head in a way akin to a confused puppy.

“Okay…” she draws out as if waiting for something. They’re so close still, breathing onto each other’s faces, and Wynonna can guess what’s expected of her.

“Okay,” she hemmed-. “One more time.” Waverly places her hand against her sister’s knee for support and closes her eyes. This time it’s Wynonna who leans in.

This kiss is firmer, rougher than the last.  Waverly parts her lips unconsciously and lets the contact become wet. Wynonna can suddenly taste her, all sweet and vanilla-y. She can’t help but open her mouth and allow her tongue sneak out for more.

Okay, maybe that’s a bit beyond what she’s expected to do, but honestly, it’s okay, she reasons.

This is practice for Champ. And Champ probably expects a hell of a lot more than a peck.

Waverly falters at the feeling of her sister’s tongue, surprised to find it poking at her bottom lip. After a moment though, she relents, opening her mouth with a tiny sigh.

“Is this alright, Baby girl?” Her tongue flicks the top of her sister’s mouth, gliding inside until its pressed fully against Waverly’s.

“S’okay,” Waverly’s reply is muffled as the older girl pushes her tongue in deeper.

“That’s it. A little wider for me, baby.” The order is clear, and again, Waverly relents obediently.  She even cranes her neck back just to accommodate. Something hiccups in Wynonna’s chest at the realization that even in this way, her sister is so eager to please.

“Good girl.” she approves throatily, thoughtlessly. “You’re doing so perfect.”

A shiver runs down her spine when Waverly whimpers, literally _whimpers_ , at the praise.

If Wynonna wanted to psychoanalyze her sister (which she definitely doesn’t), she’d think the girl had some deep-seated abandonment issues, maybe even mild self-esteem issues.

Who could blame her though when the people she loves most in life seem to have such a hard time staying with her?

Their mouths come apart and meet again, wetly. With tongues sliding clumsily over each other and Wynonna’s hand holding firmly to the back of Waverly’s neck, there’s an odd greediness to it all. A possessiveness. Wynonna tangles her free hand into Waverly’s hair and grips hard, directing the kiss.

She’s surprised by the loud moan/yelp Waverly releases in response.

Wynonna gulps.

So her sister likes getting her hair pulled. That’s…a thing she knows now.

It’s nothing to focus on, she tells herself though the strong throb pulsing somewhere definitively lower than her stomach says otherwise. She squeezes her thighs together, suddenly aware that they’re slick and hot.

The knowledge makes her pulls away, eyes widening as Waverly’s lips chase hers. Instinctively, she yanks the hand still wound in the other girl’s hair like a jockey would yank a rein.  Waverly jerks back, panting, her eyes half-opened and foggy. Her throat is bent at an awkward angle. Bared and exposed like she’s offering it to be bitten.

Wynonna releases her sister’s locks like they’re too hot to hold.

“I-I—think that’s enough for now. That’s good.” The words come out throatier than she intends them too.

“Oh,” Waverly’s response is breathy. “That was…” She doesn’t finish; instead she just sits, wiping her bottom lip and staring. Wynonna shrinks under her gaze.

“I…okay. Glad I could,” she clears her throat, “help. I’m probably gonna take that hangover nap now,” she juts a thumb toward the ceiling, vaguely referencing the guest bedroom upstairs. She stands up and Waverly nods confusedly.

“Okay…but do you have any advice though?” Wynonna almost facepalms. She’d forgotten the advice, the whole reason they were doing this.

“I don’t really have any. You were very…good.” She settles on the neutrally positive word, afraid _great_ would be too much.

Waverly blushes and smiles. “Just good?” She jokes.

Wynonna appreciates her sister for the out; joking territory is much easier to navigate.

“Fishing for compliments afterwards is just bad etiquette, you know.”

Waverly giggles, rising from the couch to stand in front of her sister. Her eyes unconsciously dip toward Wynonna’s mouth before meeting her gaze. “Okay, I’ll remember that next time.”

 _Next time?_ Wynonna nearly has a heart attack but then chides herself. Waverly is talking about the next time WITH CHAMP. Duh.

“So, okay, I’m gonna go now,” she stretches her mouth in a pseudo-smile, briefly patting her sister on the shoulder as she steps around her. “You did great. Good luck with Hardy’s hardy.” She tosses the affirmation/dig over her shoulder as she all but bolts upstairs.

-

Of course, the first few days afterwards are awkward, mostly because Wynonna is actively avoiding her sister.

But then something like half a week passes, and Waverly successfully corners her in the kitchen and hugs her.

“It went amazing with Champ!” she squeals in her ear. Wynonna shivers at the volume and proximity.

“That’s great, Kid,” she clears her throat, patting her sister’s back before gently pushing her away. “So you liked it?”

Waverly blushes, wiggling her shoulders coyly. “He liked it. We made out for fifteen minutes. He was all like, ‘Babeee, I want to marry your mouth.’”

Despite herself, Wynonna smirks at her sister’s proud wink. “The kid is Shakespeare, I tell ya.”

Waverly simpers at that. Then there’s a lingering silence in which Waverly is twisting the ends of her hair and looking at Wynonna.

 “So…you wanna watch a movie or something?” She finally proposes.

 Wynonna squints suspiciously at her sister’s red cheeks. She hates the way she reads into things.

 “Uh sure, yeah.”

“Okay, in my room though. Curtis likes to watch CSI when he comes home.” Waverly grabs her sister’s wrist and practically drags her upstairs.

-

The night goes normally from there. Waverly puts on some horror movie about demon possession because despite her traumatic history with it, she loves the supernatural. And Wynonna spends the whole time poking fun at it because that’s how she approaches most things in life.

They pause it an hour in when they realize they are talking to each other more than watching the screen.

Waverly has high school drama and midterms coming up. Wynonna is thinking about travelling to Europe with some guy she met in Kentucky a couple of months ago. Inconsequential things.

They fall asleep against each other.

-

The next couple of weeks Wynonna notices that Waverly is always around. Not that the girl was ever really absent, but she’s certainly never been _this_ present.

She comes straight home after cheer practice more often; she tags along with Wynonna to the store or to the lake or to the shooting range. Sometimes, she drops by Wynonna’s place of work—she got a job because Gus said she can’t just drink and crash on the couch if she’s going to be there for months—just to talk because she knows Wynonna will be bored.

In the afternoons, they’ve started to cook together.

Well, maybe not cook together. It’s more like Waverly cooks and Wynonna adds salt and stirs. Just snacks mostly, something to eat on the couch while they watch those afterschool court shows.

_“This is why you always take pictures as soon as you move in.”_

_“Amateurs.”_

Wynonna still gets into fights at Shorty’s, and sometimes, she has to spend the night in jail. But whenever she gets out now, there’s always Waverly, ready to hold an ice pack to her cheek and fuss at her.

The closeness doesn’t go unnoticed.

Champ is annoyed with it because it’s cutting into their alone time significantly. Gus is wary of it because she thinks Wynonna is a bad influence. And Waverly’s friends are just confused because she would rather go riding with Wynonna than go shopping with them.

Wynonna would never admit it, but this developing friendship feels precious to her.

And maybe calling it a friendship is a bit facetious. It feels more codependent than that.

But friendship feels like the easiest thing to cop to, so Wynonna just goes with that.

-

The day everything changes starts off normally.

Wynonna wakes up to the sound of Waverly getting out of her bed. They share beds every now and then; with the movie nights and late-night talks, it’s just easier to stay put than go to their respective rooms sometimes. At first, Wynonna felt weird about it, being so close to Waverly when she was in various states of undress.

But then she reasoned they’re sisters and that shouldn’t hold any weight between sisters. Maybe it was stranger that they didn’t do this kind of stuff before.

Waverly flips on the bedroom light, making Wynonna groan and toss the covers over her head.

“Sorry.” The teenager mumbles, all sleepy and slow.

Wynonna doesn’t respond; she just huddles into herself and goes to back to sleep. The next time she’s awoken it’s with a kiss on her cheek and a goodbye.

-

When Waverly comes back from school, she goes straight to her room and locks the door. Wynonna tries to check on her, but she’s just shooed away through the wooden barrier…something about a human geography project being due and needing to focus.

She doesn’t even come down to dinner until Curtis outright forces her. And then when she does, she’s eerily quiet.

Which makes the whole meal eerily quiet.  
Most of her food is still there, when she gets up to leave, but Gus says nothing. Waverly usually comes to her when she’s ready. The teenager kisses both aunt and uncle on the cheek, nods at Wynonna, and then heads to bed.

This is the first time in weeks the sisters haven’t said goodnight to each other.

-

Waverly spends almost the entirety of the next day ignoring Wynonna which Wynonna is fine with. Whatever.

Okay, sure, it leaves her day open. Way more open than she’s used to now. It’s like she’s forgotten what she did before she hung out with her sister all the time.

Got drunk, maybe? Had sex? Shot at beer bottles in the backyard?

Hm…maybe all three… She flips through channels on the living room TV and kicks the carpet under her feet.

It’s awful being dependent on someone.

-

It’s not until later that night that she finally sees her sister again, and it’s a complete metamorphosis. Waverly has her hair pulled up into a tight ponytail. She’s wearing a cropped tube top that shows off all 28 of her abs. She has long loose pants that flutter out around her ankles. Her make-up is light but intense, and Wynonna finds herself doing a double take as she struts down the stairs.

“Let’s go out!” Waverly propositions though it’s more like a cheerful demand.

“Um…” Wynonna has no words; she’s just staring. Is that a belly button ring? When did she get that? Curtis is going to flip. “Not tonight.” She kind of just wants to stay in and watched Chopped with Waverly.

And yes, she’s aware she sounds like a 40 year-old divorcee, but that’s the truth.

“Please, Nonna.” she bats her eyelashes, clasping her hands together in front of her like some sort of sexy supplicant. Wynonna has the urge to throw her blanket around the girl’s shoulders and lock her in her room. She shakes her head.

“Nah, no puppy dog eyes. You know I’ll just end up babysitting you all night.”

Waverly’s eyes turn dark. “I’m not a baby.”

 “Then why do you pick out your shirts from the toddler section?” Wynonna retorts, hand gesturing to the strip of fabric masquerading as a top. “Seriously, do you own anything that covers your full torso?”

Waverly looks down at herself and then back. “What’s wrong with my outfit?”

Wynonna opens her mouth to explain before simply exhaling hard and giving Waverly the “You know” look. “If we go out together, I’m going to have to fight off every creepy guy within a mile radius of you. And this is Purgatory, Princess. Every guy’s a creepy guy.”

“Come on, Wynonna, I’m having the worst day. I need to get out of here…Look I promise I’ll behave. You won’t even know I’m there.”

Wynonna eyes her warily

“Plus, you’ll have a DD.”

-

This was a terrible idea. Waverly is not behaving.

Wynonna crosses her arms, glaring at her sister as the girl gyrates in the middle of the dance floor.

Wynonna knew she could dance, but like normal dance, cheerlead, not…sexy club dance. Every single guy in the bar is watching her. On top of that, they chose a place in the next town over, so none of the patrons really know them. Consequently, none of the patrons know that Waverly is definitely not legal.

Multiple men approach and introduce themselves. Some just straight up try to rut against her.

Wynonna almost gets into two fights before she drags Waverly into a corner by her arm. Some guy was getting way too friendly, and Waverly wasn’t exactly pushing him away.

“What in the fuck!” she spits at her sister. The other girl flinches but maintains eye contact.

“What?”

“What happened to ‘You won’t even know that I’m there, Wynonna’? Believe you me, Babygirl, everyone in the fucking bar knows you’re here.”

“I can’t help that.” By god, she’s cocky.

Wynonna flicks Waverly in the forehead. “You can try not to encourage it, Dipshit…I can’t even get hammered properly because every time I turn around some Hillbilly is trying to cop a feel.”

“God, Wynonna, put your shotgun away. I’m having fun.”

The older girl wants to grab Waverly’s shoulders and shake the shit out of her, and she almost does. Except she catches an older guy across the room, leering and licking his lips.

Wynonna takes off her jacket and offers it to her sister. “Put this on, and we’ll grab a table and talk.” It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know something is really bothering Waverly.

“No, I feel fine. Stop trying to tell me what to do, Daddy.”

Wynonna glances up and sees the guy still looking at them and flips him off aggressively. When he finally has the decency to look away, she turns her attention back to Waverly, pushes the jacket hard into her chest, and all but growls, “Put on the fucking parka, and let’s go.”

Waverly resists for a whole ten seconds before conceding, grabbing the coat and stomping out of the bar. Wynonna goes to follow her, only pausing a moment to glance longingly at a beer tap.

_I guess no one’s getting drunk tonight._

-

When they finally get into the truck, Waverly slams the door and crosses her arms. Wynonna grits her teeth, cranking up the engine.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Fine, I’m not gonna beg you.” She backs out of the parking lot quietly, but once they get on the main road her eyes slide back over to Waverly.

“Did someone bring up the Earp curse?”

“No.”

“Underestimate your knowledge of Latin?”

“No.”

“Forget to cut the crusts off of—”

“Champ broke up with me,” she cuts Wynonna off, hoping to end the guessing game.”

“Oh,” Wynonna mouths but doesn’t say. She drums her fingers on the steering wheel awkwardly, not really knowing where to go from there.

The car ride becomes silent and uncomfortable. Five more minutes of it passes before Wynonna notices movement in the corner of her eye. When she turns to look fully, she realizes Waverly is shaking…crying.”

The truck’s tires squeal from how quickly she pulls them off the road. “Waverly?” she pushes her sister’s shoulder. Maybe, not the most soothing action but she can’t think of what else to do. “Tell me what happened.”

Her sister sniffles. “I caught him making out with Sarah under the bleachers. Everyone saw. It was humiliating.”

Wynonna just nods, a rage growing in her belly. When they get back to town, she’s going to find Champ and mow him over with her truck.

“I ran away, and he followed me and apologized. He seemed sorry at first…But then,” she pauses, sniffling again, “h-he said it was nice being with someone who actually liked being with him…in that way. Someone he didn’t have to beg to touch.”

Again, Waverly is so fucking vague with her words that Wynonna doesn’t know if she’s talking about sex or intimacy in general. She doesn’t want to interrupt to ask for clarification, so she just saves the question in the back of her throat.

“And you know what? I couldn’t even say anything because it’s true! I like him, maybe even love, I don’t know. He makes me laugh, but…when he asks to _do things_ , I want to disappear. And when he kisses me, I just feel…bored.”

“I thought you said you liked it the first time?” Wynonna counters, officially confused.

“I said _he_ liked it….and I thought eventually I would too”

“Did you feel like that when we…” It’s a selfish question to ask at this moment, but Wynonna is dying to know.

“No, that’s the thing! I didn’t.” Waverly’s eyes get even wetter as her sniffle turns into a sob. “I _really_ think something is wrong with me, Wynonna.”

“Hey,” Wynonna pulls her sister as close as she can get her with the center console in the way. “Nothing is wrong with you. You hear me?  You’re perfect.”

She kisses her forehead. “You’re too good for him, Waves.” She overtly chooses to ignore the more perplexing part of Waverly’s confession. “Besides, I heard Sarah has mono.”

Waverly releases a wet gurgle of a laugh, turning in to her sister’s embrace. Wynonna kisses her temple; she doesn’t have any comforting script stored in her back pocket, so she just improvs instead.

“I didn’t want to say this before because you were dating and all, but,” she strokes Waverly’s hair, “there’s no future with a man who wears the same shoe size as you.”

Waverly laughs a laugh that sounds more like a squeak and slaps Wynonna’s shoulder softly.

“Hey! I’m just saying. He’s probably packing a roll of quarters down there; you were spared.”

Wynonna feels pleased with herself when Waverly’s muffled giggle buzzes beneath her ear. The sweet, albeit overly affectionate, girl nuzzles her sister’s jaw before pecking it appreciatively. “Eh, it’s a bit bigger than a roll of quarters, Nonna.”

Wynonna has to stop herself from jerking away. The response is matter-of-fact, very noncommittal, but she can’t help but ask.

 “How do you know the size of his…?”

Waverly nuzzles her again and then laughs. “Well, there’s this new invention called a picture.”

The older girl rolls her eyes and relaxes. “Okay, Ms. Sarcasm, pull back…you’re becoming too much like me.”

“That’s not a bad thing.”

It is such a sweet Waverly thing to say that Wynonna doesn’t know how to respond to it. Instead, she rests her lips against her sister’s forehead, a quiet thank you. And they stay like that for a while.

When she is certain her sister isn’t going to cry again, she leans away enough to look into her eyes.

“You deserve better, Waverly. You always have.” She kisses the girl’s nose and hugs her. Per usual, it only lasts a few seconds before Wynonna retreats except this time it’s an incomplete removal. For some reason, halfway through, she just stalls.

Hovering over her mouth.

She can see her sister’s eyes; they aren’t weirded out or scared, just watching, curious. She’s gorgeous right now even with a red nose and smudged eyeliner. She still looks like an angel to Wynonna.

The older girl cups Waverly’s neck, thumb wiping away the dried tear stains from her cheek. Blue eyes scan her face, taking in everything; those brown orbs, that button nose, those lips. The tug is an impulse.

Waverly hiccups, confused. She’s not drunk. And they’re not practicing. There is no real excuse for them to be this close.

When it happens, it is a light nothing, almost familial until Wynonna tilts Waverly’s chin with her finger and attempts to deepen it. A long moment passes where Waverly is unmoving.

Stone against Wynonna’s wet mouth.

That should be her first sign to stop. To pull back and salvage whatever decency she has left. But she realizes she’s been wanting—no, craving this since the first time it happened (she doesn’t want to consider the idea that she may have craved it long before that).

When she looks at Waverly she feels so many things, so many confusing, confusing things, but right now, arousal is the clearest.

So yeah, maybe another person would see the omen, pull away, and recoup. But she’s Wynonna Earp and an absolute idiot and she doesn’t.

Instead she rolls her tongue along Waverly’s bottom lip until the younger girl cracks, opening her mouth just wide enough to gasp, “Nonna?”

A tongue slips between her lips before she has time to close them.

It is so wrong. It is so wrong. It is so wrong. But Wynonna continues anyway, enforces it, dominates it. Catches Waverly’s chin and coaxes her back every time she tries to turn away. It’s surprisingly easy to do. A nudge, a lip bite, a slow kiss against her neck.

A “Look at me. That’s right. Good girl.”

At first, there is an explicit hesitancy, a stilted exploration; like Waverly doesn’t know what to do but follow her sister’s lead.

But then at some point…it becomes something horrifically mutual.

It becomes two tongues tasting each other. Heads tilting to fit together. Lips that hug. Waverly, though she’ll deny it later, begins lapping at her sister’s soft palate like she’s hungry for the taste.

And in the end, that’s the real ghost of the thing. That’s the part that will haunt them.

Wynonna doesn’t know how long it goes on like that: Bobbing and capturing. Fingers seizing Waverly’s hair. She couldn’t even tell you why it ends exactly.

Maybe it was the hand creeping under Waverly’s shirt. Maybe it was the way she stroked light circles into her thin bralette. Just over that hardened peak.

Or maybe it was the way she whispered, “Does that feel good, Baby?”.

Maybe it was all those things and none of them.

But as quickly as the kiss began, it stops, and Wynonna is sent flying violently into the headrest, a hand-shaped bruise forming on her cheek.

She groans holding her face, the shock and guilt already flooding her body. The moment she sees Waverly’s flushed countenance and dark wide eyes, she knows she’ll drown in it.

“No one has ever…” She doesn’t finish the sentence, but she doesn’t have to. Wynonna knows what she means.

_No one has ever touched me like that._

She wants to say something, but when she opens her mouth, nothing comes out. She can _smell_ her; she can smell her sister. Wavery watches her eyes flick down and then back up. The younger girl presses her thighs together, mortified. But it’s too late; Wynonna sees it.

“Waverly, I’m—” she stops when she catches her sister’s full gaze.

Waverly is looking at her in a way she’s never looked at her before.

 Like she’s seeing what everyone else sees for the first time.

A curse.

There is nothing she can say. The drive home is painful.

 


End file.
